When Harold finished reading the story of the Hermit Gnome to the Red King, he looked up to see how his listener had enjoyed the tale. And lo and behold! Red Rex was fast asleep! He lay on his back in the afternoon sunshine, and a noise came from his half-open mouth rather like the Gr-r! of the lion-doll, when its tail was screwed.

"Well!" said Harold to himself; "I cannot return to the city until His Majesty wakes up; for that would not be polite, and his bodyguard would not allow it. I may as well make myself comfortable and be patient. The longer he sleeps the longer time we shall have in safety to wait for help from our King."

Harold opened the little covered basket to replace the green-and-gold volume from which he had just been reading, and in doing so caught sight of the luncheon which his thoughtful mother had packed, in the fear that he might be hungry ere his return. He took out the folded napkin and peered eagerly below. There was a huge wedge of apple pie! Harold licked his lips and his eyes sparkled, for there was nothing of which he was so fond as apple pie. "I must have at least a bite this minute!" he said to himself, and opening his mouth very wide he prepared to bite into the juicy wedge.

Just at this moment Red Rex opened his eyes.

"Pitikins!" he cried, "what is going on? Is this part of the story?" For at first he did not know that he had been asleep.

"No, Your Majesty," said Harold; "it is a piece of one of my mother's famous pies. Will you share it with me?"

"That I will!" said Red Rex, sitting upright and stretching out his hand eagerly. "It looks like apple pie. There is nothing in the world I like so well as apple pie."

"Your taste is the same as mine," said Harold merrily, carving the wedge with his knife into two equal triangles. "I believe Your Majesty never tasted better pie than that. It is made by a famous rule."

Red Rex munched his share greedily, sitting opposite the munching Harold. And as they ate they eyed one another, not unfriendly. When he had finished, the Red King said,--"By my sword! That is the best piece of apple pie that ever I tasted, or hope to taste! Your mother must be a wondrous cook, Harold."

"That she is!" cried the proud boy. "And she is the best mother who ever lived. She made six of these wonderful pies for me, because she knows that I like them so much. I saw them this morning on a shelf in the pantry."

"Six juicy apple pies!" murmured Red Rex, smacking his lips at the thought. "Where do you live, boy?"

"I live on the High Street, which leads from the market-place, in a little house next the butcher's shop," said Harold, wondering why the King asked.

"I will remember that," said Red Rex, nodding his head solemnly. "I owe your mother a happy memory for that piece of delicious pie."

"It is made from the recipe for the King's Pie," said Harold. "No wonder you approve it, being like His Hungry Majesty of old."

"The King's Pie!" exclaimed the surprised monarch. "Pray, what do you mean by that?"

"It is another story, Your Majesty," said Harold, grinning. "I think it is the best story of all. But I suppose you would not care to hear it to-morrow."

"Oh, go along with you and your stories, you young beguiler!" cried Red Rex with a great roar, at the same time poking Harold playfully with the point of his sword. "I see that you would keep me here forever at the walls of your city, listening to your tales."

"Not forever," said Harold, with an air of candor. "I do not think that even the library of Kisington could furnish new books for as long a time as that,--though, to be sure, you might hear some of the same ones over again. But, indeed, you have no idea what treasures still remain in that casket! This tale of the King's Pie is one of the rarest, I think."

Red Rex seemed to be thinking very earnestly about something. "The King's Pie," he murmured, more than once. "H'm! H'm! It is of a deliciousness! Ha! Ho!" And he smacked his lips again, thinking of the tantalizing wedge which was now no more. Suddenly he spoke: "I have decided to wait yet another day," he announced. "I will hear that tale to-morrow. And if it contains a recipe for the famous pie, I shall want you to copy it off for me. Bring pen and paper, my lad."

"That I will!" said Harold joyously. For this meant still another day's delay; and the time was now near at hand when they might expect to see help coming from the Capital City where their good King Victor lived. This was Wednesday, when he took leave of the Red King.